Showing posts with label World War II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World War II. Show all posts

Monday, April 21, 2008

Judgement

From the classic movie Judgement at Nuremburg:
Mrs. Bertholt: "You elect judges in the United States?"

Judge Haywood: "Yes, in some states."

Mrs. Bertholt: "I didn't know that."

Judge Haywood: "Well, it's either one of the virtue or one of the defects to our judiciary system. I thought it was one of the virtues until last year when I was defeated."

Sounds strangely familiar.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The grim cost of freedom, Salerno September 9, 1943

From One of Many:

US 36 Division
In order to cover the four beaches in the US sectors , 16 Panzer Division had two reinforced companies, many in strong points constructed near the shoreline. These troops normally operated with the tanks, but now occupied a static role with machine guns and mortars covering the likely exits from the beaches. Field artillery was dug in around the foothills of Monte Soprano, and had a commanding view of the shore and beaches.

The American command did not advocate a naval barrage prior to landing , and so the Landing Craft approached the shore line with the beaches remaining quiet. The first landing assault was by the 142nd Infantry, and had begun their final run in at 03:30. As soon as they began to offload the troops, the German defence began to fire with heavy machine gun and mortar fire. The plywood construction of the Landing Craft, rapidly began to disintegrate under this hail of fire. Although the first assault was decimated by very accurate fire they gradually worked their way into the dunes where they became pinned down.

At sea four Landing Craft Support Small (LCS (s)) opened fire on the German positions but lacked sufficient fire power. These were then supported by USS Ludlow some 1500 yards offshore, who opened fire with 5 inch shells. This proved limited in success as they were unable to pinpoint the German positions, and did not know how far forward their own troops had advanced up the beach. To further compound the problems for 36 Division, the second wave of troops had not yet arrived, due to concern over mines, and it was decided to withhold further landings until daylight one hour distant.

Daylight began to break, and some of the LCT’s began letting off smoke pots to conceal their positions from the enemy fire. This practice was rapidly adopted by the rest of the LCT’s which created a fog so thick that many craft became lost. Some of the craft when approaching the beaches came under heavy fire. These refusing to risk destruction of their craft and passengers, off loaded them into too greater depth of water, so that they had to wade ashore soaking all radio equipment and supplies in salt water. This caused communications failure between ship and shore further exacerbating the confusion.

The high buildings of Paestrum were put to good use by the Germans. A 50 foot mediaeval watch tower, which was too close to the shore landings for the Allied Navy to bombard, was used by the Panzer Grenadiers to mount machine guns for sweeping the beach area, while observers corrected the artillery and mortar bombardment of the beaches. The American infantry ran for cover in the scrub, and irrigation ditches, but most were pinned down for much of the day by the German fire, while the railway objective remained some one and a half miles inland. Slowly some progress was made by sections of 141st, but again most were pinned down for much of the day by German fire which eventually closed the beaches in that sector for further landings. With daylight breaking the Germans began local counter strikes spearheaded with tanks. The Americans were thus hit with a German resistance far greater than anticipated and in consequence the movement inland was far from the planned operation.


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Saturday, September 01, 2007

1 September 1939

From Simon Schama's A History of Britain, Volume III, The Fate of Empire 1776-2000
Should Poland be attacked, Britain and France would come to her aid. The logistic impossibility of this aid being delivered to Lodz or Warsaw meant, of course, that there would be war in the West. But Chamberlain’s apparent conversion to a firm alliance policy concealed the fact that he believed the announcement of the guarantee would deter Hitler, and that it would never have to become operational.

The unprecedented Nazi-Soviet non-aggression pact, announced on 23 August, blew that assumption sky-high. Without the collaboration of the Soviet Union, the Franco-British guarantee seemed a paper threat. Hitler assumed it was a bluff and that, when it was called, neither state would actually go to war. At dawn on 1 September 1939, in response to an alleged attack on a German radio station in Gleiwitz, a brutal land and air attack was launched on Poland. A `note’ was duly handed by the British ambassador to the government in Berlin, stating that if German troops were not immediately withdrawn France and Britain would honour their obligations. The next day the House of Commons, in grim but resolute mood, expected to hear that war had been declared. What they got instead, to general consternation, was an exercise in procrastination from Chamberlain: he suggested that if, through Italian mediation, German troops would fall back, the status quo ante 1 September would still be in place and a conference of representatives from France, Poland, Italy, Britain and Germany could be convened. That, after an initial explosion of rage, was indeed Hitler’s idea, too: he assumed another Munich would give him without the inconvenience of a war. Both Labour and some Tory members were appalled. The Conservative MP Leo Amery shouted to Arthur Greenwood, the Labour leader, three devastating words: `Speak for England!’ And Greenwood did, to tremendous and moving effect. When he had finished there would be loud cheers. As usual, it was only a threatened revolt among his own ranks that finally overthrew Chamberlain’s latest attempt at appeasement, and later that evening he agreed to turn the `note’ into an ultimatum that would expire at eleven o’clock on the morning of 3 September. His most intense reaction, however, was wounded egotism stressing to the House that whilst it was a `sad day, to none it is sadder than to me.’ When, in the mournful tones of someone announcing the passing of a maiden aunt, Chamberlain took to the airwaves a few minutes after 11 to inform the nation `that no such undertaking has been received and that consequently this country is at war with Germany’, he could not help but add again, `You can imagine what a bitter blow it is for me.’ `Well’, says Shortie Blake, the seaman In Which We Serve, at this news, `it ain’t no bank holiday for me neither.’


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